


Synchronicity

by cinabrese



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, everything's a fun and happy adventure with a strong sense of impending doom, first gen synchronicity au, mavis and yuriy are siblings, zeira's a sass master
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinabrese/pseuds/cinabrese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he was five, she was born.</p>
<p>When he was eleven, he bandaged her bruises.</p>
<p>When he was sixteen, he became her guardian.</p>
<p>When he was eighteen, they took her from him.</p>
<p>When he was twenty-two, he found her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or, Yuriy Dreyar refuses to let anyone take his sister away from him. Time, sadistic leaders, and even dragons cannot stop him from risking his life if it means she can live. Inspired by the song series of the same name by Hitoshizuku-P</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sky Where I Look for You

**Author's Note:**

> syn·chro·nic·i·ty
> 
> _noun_
> 
> _1\. the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection_

When he was five years old, his mother gave birth to a baby girl. 

“You must protect her, Yuriy. She’s your precious little sister and she might be scared of the big world,” his mother had said as he held the baby for the first time.

“Of course, Mama.” He was in awe of the child. How could something so innocent and small grow up into an adult one day? But he held his sister closely, sitting on the rocking chair beside his mother’s bed and staying there until she cried to be fed.

* * *

 

“Mavis!” Yuriy, now eleven, cried out as his little sister climbed higher up the tree. “Come down from there, you’re going to fall!”

“Fairies can’t fall, silly!” She giggled, reaching for another branch.

He grumbled irritably. “You’re not a fairy, you’re just a kid! A pretty dumb one at that. If you don’t come down now I’m getting Mama.”

“No, no, I’m coming!” Her voice was frantic as she remembered the last time Yuriy had to get their mother. “Yuriy, please don’t tell M-“ There was a _crack_ as a limb snapped underneath Mavis’s weight and she careened downward.

Yuriy’s fear for his sibling drowned out the need to say _“I told you so!”_ as he rushed forward to the base of the tree. By some miracle, Mavis had snagged herself on another branch, halting her fall. Her eyes were brimming with tears as Yuriy climbed up and untangled her, gently lowering her to the ground.

“See, stupid? That’s why you can’t climb so high,” he grumbled, picking a leaf out of her hair. 

“M-mama’s gonna yell at me,” Mavis hiccuped as Yuriy motioned for her to climb up on his back.

They returned home with her covered in bruises, and attempted to slip through their small house unnoticed by their mother. 

They were caught, of course.

“It was my fault, Mama, I wasn’t watching her,” Yuriy said after the scolding was over.

Their mother sighed, pinching her nose. “Just take Mavis to your room and clean her up. I have work to finish.”

After Yuriy set her down on the bed, Mavis stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Yuriy.” she mumbled.

He returned her hug with a small smile. “Love you too, Mave.”

* * *

 

It was a rainy day, fitting for the occasion. Mavis, eleven years old, clutched her brother’s jacket as she stood behind him, tears running down her face. He wrapped an arm around her and stared forward, expression devoid of all emotion.

The priest droned on, but the children hardly payed any attention. Yuriy’s father had drowned at sea, while Mavis’s father left when she was only a baby, and now their mother, the person they both looked up to, was gone, taken by a growing illness. Her health had been deteriorating for months, and finally her body could take no more. 

The minutes and hours ticked on and they mumbled meaningless “thank you”s to neighbors and friends until they were left alone in front of the grave. 

Mavis clutched a small rose in her hand and knelt down. “I love you, Mama, a-and I’ll mi-miss you, and…and,” she got no further before she broke down in heaving sobs. Her wails were muffled by the downpour, but only slightly.

Yuriy ruffled her hair as her cries subsided into small trembles and hiccups. “C’mon, kid, let’s get out of this rain.” Sullenly, Mavis stood up, dropping the flower on the muddy ground, and grasped Yuriy’s hand tightly as they walked home.

For the first time that day, Yuriy was thankful for the rain that hid his tears from his sister.

* * *

 

“ _Yuriiiiyy_. What are you doing?” Papers were spread out on one of the many tables of the dining area. Mavis weaved through the chairs and tables to where her brother sat, pen in hand and glasses perched on his nose. 

“Bills, payments, taxes, the usual,” Yuriy replied. He glanced over the rim of his glasses to grin at Mavis. “Just a bit longer and we can start making your birthday dinner!”

A surprised expression crossed Mavis’s face and she squirmed in place. “Is it wise to close the inn earlier just so we can celebrate my birthday?” She peered at the papers before looking back at Yuriy. “I mean, we’re already having tro-“

“We’re doing fine,” Yuriy said sharply, cutting her off. The atmosphere of the room grew tense and Mavis looked anywhere but at her brother. 

She jumped when something hit her nose. Yuriy was grinning at her and holding the pen in the air. “Besides, it’s not every day you turn thirteen.”

“You got ink on my nose!” Mavis wailed, going cross-eyed as she attempted to look at the middle of her face. 

With a wave of his hand Yuriy shooed her away. “Go wash your face and leave me to my work, or else we’ll never get to eat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his sister grumbled, walking away.

“And ask Zeira if she wants to eat with us!”

“Okay!” With a bounce in her step, Mavis left the tavern and ran down the main street, calling for her friend as she went.

Smiling, Yuriy returned to his work, tapping the end of his pen on the table as he calculated costs. _We_ are _in a bit of a bind right now,_ he thought. _But she shouldn’t worry about that_.

The door opened and light poured into the dining area. “I thought I told you to find Zeira. Did you get her that quickly?” He asked without looking up.

“What a lovely inn,” a soft voice commented. Yuriy shifted in his seat and put his pen down, taking in the newcomers. A man and a woman stood in the doorway of the building, nobles or higher from the look of their clothing.

“We’re not open,” he informed the couple.

“And we’re not customers,” the man replied. 

Instantly on guard, Yuriy motioned toward the door behind them. “Either way, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

The two shared a look but stayed where they were. “I’m afraid our job forbids us to leave until we have found what we are looking for,” the woman said.

“Stop dancing around, Sayla. We’ll get nowhere at this rate. We are priests of the Draconian Order, servants of the great dragon and the holy Diva. It is our sworn task to find the next Diva, and our search has led us here, to this town.”

Yuriy felt his blood run cold. Their small and insignificant inn wouldn’t be the first place people so high ranking would stop. There was a purpose in their being here.

“We demand to see the girl called Mavis Vermillion.”

It was as if all the air had been taken from his lungs. He felt dizzy and sick and dared not open his mouth for fear of what he might say. Yuriy knew how this would end, the Order was never refused, but he wished with all his heart that it was a bad dream he would wake up from soon. 

The priests gauged Yuriy’s reaction before the woman spoke once more. “This is the Fly’s Catch, is it not? Owned by a certain Yuriy Dreyar, half-brother to Mavis Vermillion, passed down from his mother An-“

“I get it, you know everything about me, just stop talking, all right?” Yuriy snapped. He took off his glasses and ran a hand over his face, mentally cursing the priests and their order.

“Where is the child?” The woman, Sayla, questioned.

Yuriy wearily motioned to the main street. “She’s out. Looking for a friend and she probably won’t be back until sunset.”

“Then we will wait,” the man decided. “We did not formally introduce ourselves. I am Tempesta and she is Sayla, priests serving directly under the High Priest himself. I assume you have deducted our reason for wanting to see your sister?”

With an apprehensive nod, Yuriy voiced his understanding, but said nothing more. If he could avoid it, he wouldn’t think of what was to become of Mavis. “Take a seat if you’re staying, I have work to do.” Not taking another look at the priests, Yuriy returned to scribbling on the papers in an attempt to distract himself.

The minutes ticked by until Mavis made her appearance. The door to the tavern burst open and she waltzed inside with a smile. 

“Zeira said she’ll be down then, she has to finish rehearsing with her stepmother and the rest of the troupe. I _was_ going to stay, but her father sent me away because apparently I’m distracting to the members. Can you believe that! _Distracting!_ ” Her grin slipped as she drew her brows together, unable to fathom how she (and her very involved personality) could be distracting.

Mavis seated herself across the table from Yuriy, so focused on retelling her story that she failed to notice the two strangers in the corner. Raising a brow, the girl glanced at her brother. 

“What’s with you? You look kinda pale. Do you need to lie down? I can make dinner tonight, if you want,” she offered.

Shaking his head slowly, Yuriy mumbled, “No, that’s not it.” Clearing his throat, he raised his voice and gestured towards the priests. “We have guests.”

A confused look flitted across Mavis’s face. “Guests? I thought you said we weren’t opening today.” She turned in her chair, gaze scouring the room until she saw them. 

Sayla stepped forward and smiled, although it did not reach her eyes. “Hello, Mavis.”

“H-hello,” Mavis greeted uncertainly.

“Tell me, what do you know of the Draconian Order?”

“Um, well, they’re people who pray to the dragon so that it doesn’t attack the kingdom.”

“And do you know exactly how we do that?” Sayla continued, eyes glittering with some unknown emotion. Mavis’s heart rate jumped at the woman’s use of the word “we.” She was in the presence of high ranking people, people who could have the entire town dance on their hands if they so pleased.

Finding some of her usual confidence, Mavis answered, “Through the Diva, correct?”

“Exactly,” Tempesta approved. “The Diva plays a very important role in the Order and in keeping the kingdom safe. But, sadly, the current Diva is quite sick. The Order has been searching for a suitable replacement and our search has led us to this town.”

If Mavis could tell where the conversation was going, she didn’t let it show. “It would be good for Magnolia if it was known that the next protector of the kingdom came from here,” she said genuinely. “Have you found her yet?”

The priests shared knowing looks with each other before Sayla nodded. “We have,” Tempesta said. “And of all the people in Fiore, you, Mavis Vermillion, are best suited to become the Diva and guard our kingdom.”

Yuriy felt as if his chest was about to explode. He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. 

“She’s just a child, you can’t expect her to pray to that damned dragon for the rest of her life!” His voice was hoarse and strained as he spoke. Mavis, startled by the sudden movements, stared at her brother in shock. 

“The Order requests it,” Tempesta said evenly. 

“To hell with the Order! All they do is force people to work for them and feed them to that worm. And then they even have the audacity to claim their murder is for “the higher good!” You can’t make her do anything,” Yuriy spat, eyeing the priests with disdain.

Sayla crossed her arms, a sickening smile on her lips. “We can, in fact, make her do as we say, but we have chosen for this much more, shall we say, _humane_ , approach. It would do you well to not push our hand, _innkeeper_.”

“She is needed here,” Yuriy said lowly. 

Tempesta waved a hand airily. “All of your expenses will be paid for by the Draconian Order once Mavis leaves.”

Rage was apparent on Yuriy’s face and he clenched his fists, moving around the table towards the priests. “You _miserable_ , filthy d-“

“Yuriy!” Mavis said quietly but firmly as she stood up. She stepped in front of her brother, pushing on his chest in an attempt to stop his movements. 

“Get out of my way, Mavis,” he growled, brushing her aside.

“No, wait! You never asked me what I wanted! I want to go!” 

Yuriy froze and looked down at Mavis. His complexion paled and ice ran through his veins as she looked up at him earnestly. 

“You…what?” He asked, confusion and betrayal written clearly on his face.

Mavis avoided his gaze as she responded. “I’ll go with them. If it will help the kingdom, then it’s my duty to go. Besides, I always wanted to go on an adventure!” She murmured with a small smile.

A clap broke Yuriy’s trance as the priests moved once more. “Well then!” Tempesta grinned. “The lady has spoken. Now, we must leave right away, so hurry and get whatever things you may need. Oh! And…”

As Mavis and the priests spoke and gathered traveling items, Yuriy sat down, unable to stand any longer. The Draconian Order and the Divas were spoken of rarely in Magnolia, and even more rarely in their household. But he had heard townspeople talking, and his mother crying for the sister she had lost to the Order.

Divas never lived long after being given their title. 

_“You must protect her, Yuriy.”_ Why did he now think of those words his mother had said so long ago? Why did she agree to leave with the priests? A growing sense of hopelessness gnawed at his heart and began to consume him, and he could do nothing to stop it.

“Yuriy?” Mavis asked tentatively an hour later. The priests were outside the inn, preparing their carriage for travel. 

“What?” He asked, more sharply than intended.

Mavis recoiled as if he had physically struck her and he sighed, gathering her into his arms.

“Y-you’re not going t-to hate me, are you?” She sniffed, voice muffled by his shirt.

“How could I? You don’t exactly have a choice, do you?”

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his torso. “But I really do want to go. And you want me to stay. You want me to want to stay, too, don’t you?”

Yuriy tightened his hold around her and smiled sadly. “You always were a smart kid.”

“I’m sorry.” She started shaking as tears spilled over and tracked down her face. 

Her brother held her at an arm’s length and glanced down at his shirt. “Kid, you got snot all over me,” he frowned. Mavis sputtered as she laughed through her crying.

“You’re so insensitive,” she hiccuped. 

Yuriy smiled before placing his hands on her shoulders. “Listen, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay? You’re being selfless and amazing, and I’m just being stupid and selfish. Don’t worry about how I feel, just worry about Mavis, okay?” She smiled shyly as he flicked her nose.

“I love you, Yuriy,” Mavis whispered as she hugged him once more.

“And I love you too, Mave.” They stood in each other’s company for a few more minutes until Yuriy sighed and gently pushed her away.

“You’d better get going before the storm the place,” he said, jerking a thumb to the door where the priests waited outside.

Mavis nodded and began moving towards the door. “Yeah, I guess so.”

As she put her hand on the doorknob, Yuriy called, “Mavis, catch!” She turned around just in time to have something hit her on the forehead. Bending down to pick it up, Mavis saw a chain with a ring made of gold hanging on it.

“Happy birthday,” Yuriy said, holding up his wrist to display a chain and a silver ring wrapped around it.

Mavis felt her eyes grow hot again as she smiled ruefully, slipped the chain around her neck, and left.

* * *

 

“Hello?” The door to the tavern was pushed open as a dark haired girl entered the building. “Is anyone here?” 

Her gaze fell on a figure huddled over at one of the tables. Papers were strewn about and a pot of ink was knocked over and had emptied its contents onto the wood. A mug of ale emitted a pungent smell that made the girl wrinkle her nose.

“Yuriy, I _say_ ,” she began, picking up the inkwell and setting it upright “Whatever has gotten into you? And where is your sister? I came all the way from the troupe’s camp and she can’t be bother to come and greet me?”

Picking his head up, Yuriy stared listlessly at her. “She’s gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean _gone_? Is this some sort of joke? Invite me for dinner and then go somewhere else?” Zeira questioned, hands on her hips.

“The priests took her away,” Yuriy deadpanned. “She’s to be the next Diva.”

Zeira’s expression turned to one of horror and her hands flew to her mouth. “ _No_.”

Yuriy nodded. “Yes.”

Pulling out a chair, Zeira seated herself, eyes wide. “ _Mavis_ , the next Diva? How…how could that happen? Is there truly no god in this world?”

As the girl questioned the existence of higher beings, the day’s events replayed over and over in Yuriy’s mind. His mother’s words _“You must protect her, Yuriy,”_ echoed deep within his being as he listened to Zeira’s soft weeps.

* * *

 

The door to the tavern opened with a creaking groan and Zeira made a mental note to remind Yuriy to oil it. As she crossed the threshold, the girl scanned the interior and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Dishes still sat on tables from the night before, furniture was overturned, and in the middle of it all was Yuriy sprawled over the dining hall’s long table, a bottle of some sort of alcohol beside him. 

Treading cautiously, Zeira made her way to the unconscious man and unceremoniously shoved him to the floor. His descent was marked with the clattering of silverware and a string of curses as he awoke.

“Zeira, what the _hell?_ ” Yuriy attempted to push himself upright, only to fall down again with a groan and lay there. “What are you doing?”

“What I am _doing_ ,” the trouper began tersely, yanking open the curtains in the inn and letting light pour in, “is saving you from this, this _pit_ you’ve sunken into!”

Yuriy flung his arm over his eyes to block out the blinding light, bellowing about how she wasn’t _saving_ him, she was going to _kill_ him. “There is no pit, so stop barging in where you’re unwanted, you goddamned actor! How long is your troupe even staying here? You’ve been here forever. Leave already!”

The young girl spun around on her heel, dropping the plates she was carrying onto a table with enough force to rattle the wood. “If it wasn’t for me _“barging in where I’m not needed,”_ you and this stinking tavern would be long gone! You’ve done nothing but become a drunk bastard since Mavis left!”

“She didn’t leave, she was taken to her ultimate death! It’s only been six months, what do you want me to do? Throw a party, get over it, and forget she ever existed?” Yuriy shouted back, heaving himself off the floor. 

“I want you to _move on!_ She’s my best friend, too, you know, you’re not the only one who misses her every day! You’re not the only one who feels a gaping hole where she used to be. Mavis is happy and fun and bright and good and I wish that I could be more like her instead of a part of a thieving actors’ troupe, but it’s good enough just to meet her. I don’t want you to _forget_ her, Yuriy, I just want you to come back.” Zeira’s voice began to trail off and vaguely she realized that she had started crying, but couldn’t find the will to care. She glared up at Yuriy, desperation and fire in her eyes.

Astonished, Yuriy could only gape at her. He reached for words and something to say, but found nothing. Zeira’s words crashed into him like he had just run into a wall. Sinking onto a bench, Yuriy ran his hands over his face and found a renewed interest in the floor.

Here was someone who had gone through the same experience and pain as him, someone who understood how he felt, and for the past six months he had done nothing but make her life even more difficult. He considered Zeira family, and yet he neglected to notice her feelings and that she was in as much turmoil as he was. He could’ve helped her, she could’ve helped him, but he only wallowed in his own self pity and loss.

“Zeira…” 

“Save it, I don’t want your dumb apologies now.” Her voice was sharp and Yuriy winced at the tone, although he didn't blame her. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes before sitting beside Yuriy silently. They said nothing for many long minutes, finding solace in another person who shared their loss.

Then Yuriy moved abruptly, startling Zeira from her state of half-consciousness. He trudged though the wreckage of the tavern to the door at the back of the bar. Unlocking it, Yuriy moved into his and Mavis’s living space and began rummaging through drawers and cupboards.

“Yuriy? What are you doing?” Zeira asked curiously as she followed him. She ducked as he threw things towards the bed in the middle of the room, and began refolding articles of clothing. “You’re making a mess of things, you know.”

“I’m packing,” he finally replied, moving to shove pieces of clothing into a bag.

“Packing? Do you plan on taking a vacation somewhere?” She quipped tiredly.

“I _plan_ ,” Yuriy said as he pushed the bed away from the wall, “to go after those priests and get her back.” 

_That_ got her attention. Zeira stiffened and stared at him with unmasked disbelief and fear.“You’ll be exiled for heresy! No, you’ll be killed for treason!”

“I’d rather flee the kingdom than have her perish as the Diva.”

“You think you can fight against the entire Draconian Order and win?” Zeira’s voice rose with incredulity. Yuriy began running his fingers along the floorboards, searching for the edge of something.

“I’ll find a way,” he growled.

“And how do you plan on finding the Keep? No one besides the high-ranking priests of the Order are allowed to know the whereabouts of the dragon.” She scrutinized the floor where Yuriy was before tapping her foot on a board, resulting in a hollow thud.

Thanking her, Yuriy pulled the board up and took out a long form bundled in cloth from the hole. “Ask around, bribe, threaten, I don’t know! I’ll join the godforsaken Order if that’s what it takes, but anything is better than wasting away here.”

Perching on the bed, Zeira smiled. She kicked Yuriy lightly and her smile widened. “There he is! There’s the Yuriy I know.”

Rolling his eyes, Yuriy unwound the cloth and revealed a steel longsword, shining dully in the light. He looked at it fondly and Zeira whistled, jumping off the bed to get a closer look.

“The owner of a tavern in a small town doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to have such nice weapon,” she commented wryly. 

Grinning, Yuriy responded, “My father was a retired knight and a merchant. He got this overseas and brought it back. Mom said he planned to pass it on to me and train me, but he drowned at sea before I was four. It’ll serve me well against the Order and whoever else tries to get in my way.”

Zeira said nothing, only raised an eyebrow at his words. “And how do you plan to use it? You’ve just said you were never trained in it. You can’t just go and swing it around wildly. There are things you have to learn.”

“Uh, I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Men, I swear! This isn’t some fairy tale, Yuriy. You aren’t chosen by some prophecy to save a princess, magically learning swordsmanship along the way!”

“Well, I’m figuring everything else out as I go along, so why not this too.” It wasn’t a question; Yuriy was completely serious. 

The girl stared at him in disbelief as he buckled his sword onto a belt, shouldered his pack, and moved into the tavern. He plucked different jars and foods from the shelves and wrapped them into a bundle before adding them to his bag.

“I cannon believe how _dense_ you are! _Idiotic!_ And…what are you doing?” Her hands had been fluttering about as she spoke, but Zeira halted in her rant as Yuriy finished emptying his coffers and moved toward the door.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving.”

“This very moment?”

“No time like the present,” Yuriy said, opening the door. He turned back to grin at Zeira. “Thanks.” 

He left without another word, closing the door and leaving Zeira alone in the tavern. She gaped at the door before making a frustrated noise and kicking the leg of a table. Plates and silverware tumbled to the floor but she didn’t care.

“Damn him! He’s going to get himself killed!”

* * *

 

Yuriy hummed lowly as he walked down the road. The town was behind him now, and an uncertain future lied ahead. It might be nearly impossible, but he would find Mavis and get her away from the Draconian Order — or die trying.

He paused as a faint thumping sound reached his ears. A quick scan of his surroundings revealed nothing. Well, the troupe’s camp is just over the hill, maybe they’re up to something. The noise grew louder, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yuriy, wait!” At the top of the troupe’s hill was Zeira, bent over to catch her breath. A small traveling pack was strapped to her back and a belt hung around her waist. Tied onto her belt was a pouch, full of money, he guessed, and a slim sword.

“What are you doing?” Yuriy called up to her, irritation sparking.

Zeira straightened and her trademark haughtiness became apparent in the way she glared at him and put her hands on her hips.

“I’m coming with you! You can’t take on the Order alone, and you need someone to teach you a thing or two about how to use that blade you’re carrying.” She picked her way down the rise to stand in front of him, waiting for his response.

“What? No way!” He started. “You’re just a kid, and besides, what about your old man and the rest of the troupe? I thought you guys always stuck together.”

Zeira tubbed her arm uncomfortably. “My dad won’t care that I’m gone. The troupe, well, I’ll miss them dearly, but I have to come with you.”

“Jezelf dotes on you more than any father I’ve ever seen. He’ll probably come after me for kidnapping his daughter,” Yuriy scoffed.

“That’s the thing. He gives me everything I want, and thinks I’m fine. He doesn’t really care. He likes to brag about my talent to other troupe members, but he doesn’t act like a father. Not since mum died anyway.” She shifted nerevously, toying with a string on her money pouch. “He’s too caught up with my stepmother to notice anything I do anyway. Especially since she’s going to have his kid now. That’s why I’ve been able to help you out at the tavern, as long as I’m there when the troupe performs it doesn’t matter what I do. He’ll be angry that I left, but everything will go back to normal in a few weeks, like I was never there.”

Yuriy watched her speak dismally. He always thought of how lucky Zeira was — he and Mavis never got to know their fathers and hers seemed to love her greatly. He had no reason to count her words, and, thinking back, could tell that what she said was most likely true.

“Fine, come along if you’ve got to, but you’re gonna use those skills of yours to help get us money,” he said as he began walking once more.

Zeira rolled her eyes as she kept pace with him. “Well, _obviously_. I’ll get us a lot more than _you_ ever could,” she retorted.

Glaring at her from the corner of his eye, Yuriy muttered, “Well you don’t have to be so harsh about it.”

Zeira just smiled in response. As the sun trekked across the sky and began to set, Yuriy found that he was thankful for the company Zeira brought, even if she was constantly poking fun at him.

The bright smile of his sister burned in his mind, bringing too many emotions to name along with it. His anger was predominant and crushed down the hopelessness that had been plaguing him ever since the priests had come into his tavern. 

_Mavis, I swear, I’ll —_ we’ll _— find you and bring you back,_ he thought, looking up at the stars that were beginning to poke through the darkening sky.

As they walked towards their unknown future, Yuriy Dreyar dared to feel hopeful once again.


	2. Paradise of Light and Shadow I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the story's true timeline becomes apparent; Mavis meets with the man responsible for the workings of the Draconian Order; Yuriy and Zeira set their sights upon a foreboding palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> syn·chro·nic·i·ty
> 
> **_noun_ **
> 
> _1\. the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection._

* * *

**Paradise of Light and Shadow:** _At the Bottom of the Earth_

* * *

" _…_ _liberati mundi!_ " The sound of a clear voice cut through the stillness of the cavern and echoed off the rock back to the girl who stood in front of a massive creature. She held the last note for a second before collapsing to her knees, gasping and coughing violently as she tried to catch her breath. The creature paid no mind to her and slumbered on.

Footsteps clicked on the stone as a woman made her way to the girl. "Lady Diva, are you all right?" she asked, holding a hand out to her.

"I'm fine, Sayla," Mavis rasped. She brushed the offered hand aside and stood up on her own.

"Milady, you're bleeding."

Mavis glanced down at her hands, seeing the blood on them, and narrowed her eyes disappointedly. "I'm fine," she said once more, wiping at her mouth. She left her attendee, opting to shakily make her way out of the creature's lair. She stumbled once, leaning against the wall for support, but quickly caught her breath and marched on.

_The dragon is becoming more restless._  The thought rang in her mind as she followed the twisting tunnel to its end.  _I_ _'_ _ll have to double up on prayers._  She sighed, but an air of determination surrounded her as she continued forward, glancing up as she reached the end of the tunnel.

The caverns opened into a large valley, with sprawling gardens pushed up against the building at the valley mouth. The building was designed to be both a temple and a stronghold, and was aptly called the Dragon's Keep. It housed many priests and followers of the Draconian Order as well as knights and soldiers of the kingdom. Although they didn't always see eye to eye (the soldiers found the priests undying loyalty to their faith slightly unnerving, while the holy men looked upon the soldiers' self-indulgent life with disdain), both parties were steadfast in their shared duty - to protect the Diva and keep the kingdom at peace.

A small cottage sat on the path leading from the caves to the Keep. As Mavis neared it, the door burst open and a priest ran to meet her.

"Lady Mavis!" Tempesta called, hurrying down the path to the girl. Another, smaller figure lingered in the doorway, content for now to watch the two with a critical eye.

"Where is Sayla? Has she forgotten her sacred duties?" The man's expression was one of irritation, doubtlessly directed towards his partner. Sayla's duty was to accompany the Diva to the dragon's cavern in the place of the High Priest. But this was not the first time Mavis has returned from her task alone. "She should be sent to the High Priest for reevaluation. Perhaps she is not suited for her role."

Despite her fatigue, Mavis gave a lopsided smile and held up a hand to stop Tempesta's train of thought. "We've all been together for, what is it now, four years, three and some odd months? You know as well as I do that Sayla is magnificent at her job. I'm the one who brushed her off, as always." She paused, studying Tempesta's features. "I know you worry about her being so close to the beast." Mavis chuckled softly at the priest's shocked look. "But you needn't worry. It's  _my_ duty to make sure that the dragon is placated, and to keep all of  _you_  safe."

Tempesta sighed and directed Mavis towards the cottage as he threw a glance back towards the mountains and the creature it held. "How is one so young so wise?" He looked fondly at Mavis as they walked. "We came from the same orphanage, Sayla and I. If anything were to happen to her...I couldn't bear it."

His companion was silent as she let his words sink in. Dissatisfied with the serious tone their conversation had taken, Mavis jostled Tempesta with her elbow and hoped that he didn't notice how the movement made her dizzy.

" 'How is one so young so wise?' " She mocked, feigning a deep voice. "You make it seem as if you are grand and sagely, but you're only a few years older than me. Maybe a little older than my brother."

As always when she thought of Yuriy, Mavis's thoughts turned elsewhere as she lamented on days long passed. A deep yearning for her brother filled her but she said nothing. Noticing her withdrawal, Tempesta raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

They approached the cottage, and whoever had been studying them was gone, moving through the gardens towards the keep. The person caught Mavis's attention for a brief moment, but then Tempesta was leading her through the doorway and sitting her down at the table in the kitchen.

"There's enough for the three of us and more, so eat all you want," Tempesta told her as he placed a bowl in front of Mavis. As he took a seat across from her, Mavis murmured her thanks and began to eat.

"So that was the errand boy going back to the keep just then?" Mavis questioned in between bites.

Tempesta shook his head, setting his spoon down. "Actually, it was the High Priest's page. You've been called to the Dragon's Keep as soon as you're ready."

"Really?" Though the High Priest was responsible for the choosing of the Diva (and therefore sending many women to meet their fate), the relationship Mavis shared with the official was rather friendly. While she didn't always agree with his rulings or his morals, Mavis admired the High Priest for being able to make difficult decisions. Sometimes his jurisdictions were unfair to a select group, but benefited the Order's greater goal of keeping peace. The High Priest was a man who would do anything to protect the masses, and it was there that their friendship formed.

"I thought he was away on business," Mavis mused, standing up and clearing away her unfinished meal.

Tempesta frowned at her leftover food, but turned to her and said, "He was visiting Tartarus Palace to discuss some things with the Underworld Lord, but he's just returned."

" _The Underworld Lord_. What a name! Where do you suppose he got it from?" Mavis pondered aloud.

"From what gossip and records I've heard, the Lord of Tartarus was a criminal before joining the Order. He was ostracized for his background when he first joined, but he rose through the ranks for his loyalty to the previous High Priest, as well as demanding obedience and respect through intimidation. Because of that and his criminal history he was christened with that alias. His official title is Lord of Tartarus. Now the Underworld Lord is a trusted advisor of the current High Priest." Tempesta explained. Mavis was always curious about anything and everything going on around her, especially the history of the Order and the kingdom, and her attendees were more than happy to tell her what they could.

By now Mavis had finished cleaning her dishes and her place at the table. Tempesta watched her as she moved throughout the rooms, grumbling to herself about misplaced clothing and items. "Are you leaving now?" He asked, rising out of his seat. "I'll accompany you."

Already halfway out the door, Mavis turned around, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "No, no, that's fine. I  _can_  get around by myself, you know. I'm not that far gone yet. Go tell Sayla to come out of that cave; the dragon will sleep another day. That's an order!"

"You don't actually have the authority to order me!" Tempesta shouted after her.

"Humor me!" The girl responded. And then she was gone, making her way across the gardens.

Tempesta watched her from the threshold. He sighed dismally, rubbing a hand over his face. "She's worse than she lets on," he muttered. "At the rate she's going, she'll be dead within the year." The thought saddened him. He and Sayla were young priests, and they had only met one Diva other than Mavis. But she was had one foot through death's door when they became the guardian and keeper of the dragon, and they hadn't really known her. Mavis, however, was another story. They had sought her out themselves and brought her to the Keep when she was just a slip of a girl at thirteen. They had been with her every day for nearly four years, and he had to admit that he saw the girl as something more than just the Diva. He tried to keep his wits about him and remind himself that Divas passed all the time, but in the recesses of his mind Tempesta knew he would feel sorrow when the day Mavis stopped singing finally came.

* * *

Once she was out of sight of her guardian, Mavis slowed considerably. She was still out of breath from her prayers and her short break at the cottage had helped, but not by much. The meal, while it was as delicious as anything she'd ever eaten, had begun to repulse her after a few bites. Her appetite was beginning to disappear as of late, and she tried to hide it from Sayla and Tempesta, but she knew the two were aware of her condition.

_No use in dwelling on things that cannot be changed,_  Mavis told herself.  _I will keep the dragon at rest for as long as this kingdom needs me._ She thought of the destruction that would occur if the dragon awakened and shuddered. There would be mass chaos and death, and she couldn't bring herself to think about her brother or anyone else falling victim to the dragon's wrath due to her incapability.  _I will protect them,_ she vowed.

It took all of her strength to push open the door to the Dragon's Keep. That wasn't much of a surprise to her; the door was made of solid wood and iron and, even on days in the past when she was feeling up to par, Mavis had always struggled with the door.

Light spilled into the corridor as Mavis entered and shrank back again as she pushed the door closed. The hallway was devoid of people; this wing of the building was the least guarded, as no one but the people of the Keep would go into the gardens or the mountain's caves. Mavis made her way through the halls, cutting through rooms and saying a cheerful "Hello!" to anyone she passed. The people of the Order were used to seeing the Diva about the Keep in her free time, and many granted her a smile and a greeting - while maintaining a level of respect and bowing their heads as she passed. The Diva, while she did not hold authority in the Draconian Order, was still a prominent figure. The priests and other followers of the Order acknowledged her sacrifice and the life she was leaving behind, whether she willingly left it or not. As such, if the Diva asked for the something, most members readily complied to her wishes.

"Lady Diva." A rich and melodious voice reached Mavis's ears, and she glanced up at a dark-skinned woman standing guard at a pair of ornately decorated doors. The woman bowed deeply as she greeted Mavis. Her attire was that of a guard, but ornaments and gold trimmings adorned her clothing, proof of her status as one of the High Priest's personal guards.

Mavis smiled at her and came to a stop. "Hello, Carmen! Where's your partner? Is he off duty today?" Usually two guards stood at the entrance to the High Priest's rooms, Carmen and a broad, muscular, and very intimidating man. Mavis had heard rumors about his unpredictable temper; one minute he was as calm as a summer breeze and the next he was decapitating a man's head. She tried to avoid speaking with him. Her analogy came from experience, one that she'd rather not relive.

Carmen gestured at the doors. "Deliora's inside speaking with our master and the Head of Guard about a certain issue. They should be done soon. I assume you are here to speak with the High Priest?"

Nodding, Mavis dropped to the ground and crossed her legs, earning a curious look from Carmen. "You assumed correctly!" Mavis congratulated. "Actually, I was summoned here, according to Tempesta. The nerve of that man, calling me here only to make me wait!" She pursed her lips and sent a scathing look towards the doors, as if the High Priest could receive her feelings through them.

The corners of Carmen's lips turned up in a small smile. "My master is a very busy man, although I do apologize for his rudeness, milady."

With a sigh, Mavis leaned back on her hands, rolling her eyes upward. "It's fine Carmen, really. I'll just wait here, on the floor, the cold, cold stone floor!" She turned to the door and raised her voice as she spoke. Carmen attempted to remain impassive, but a snort of amusement escaped her lips. Mavis grinned, pleased with Carmen's reaction, and began humming as she waited.

Not a minute after she had made her statement, one door opened and two men walked out. The first was massive; he stood taller than Carmen's six-foot spear and his shoulders were nearly too broad for the door. He was garbed in the same outfit as Carmen, making him easily recognizable as Deliora. The man who followed him out wasn't as large, though his stark black hair and a large scar that narrowly missed his left eye gave him the same formidable aura as Deliora.

Mavis scrambled to her feet, lowering her gaze and bowing. "Deliora, Head of Guard Silver," she greeted. Deliora spared her a brief glance, grunted, then brushed past her. While she did frown at his reaction, she wasn't surprised. Deliora was one of the few people who regarded the Diva as a mere tool to ensure survival. He was indifferent to her, and, though Mavis didn't care what he thought of her, his rudeness and brutal personality always put them at odds.

"As charming as ever," Mavis commented sweetly. The guard shot her a scathing look, to which she only smiled brightly. Carmen suppressed a snicker, but Silver let out a full bellied laugh. He reached out a hand to ruffle her hair, and she tried to duck away, but the Head of Guard was quicker.

"Why don't you come by the Keep more often, Mavis?" Silver grinned as he messed up her hair. "It's always more lively with you around." He pulled her closer to him and leaned down, saying in a not so quiet whisper, "They're all just a bunch of stiffs here. Especially that one." It was no secret that there was no love lost between Silver Fullbuster and Deliora. A disagreement that happened years ago created the rift between them, though only they knew the finer details. Mavis liked to speculate about what caused their intense dislike of each other with Carmen whenever she came to the Keep. Her preferred theory (and the one she presumed to be most true, considering the lack of women in either man's life), was that a sweetheart or lover has been the root of the trouble. But the circumstances, those even she could not guess.

Now Deliora shifted to turn and seize up his superior. "It's not a part of my duties to be ridiculed. Especially by someone such as yourself.  _Sir_." Silver's hold on Mavis slackened and, sensing the tension and malice brewing in the air, she slipped away from the Head of Guard and into the High Priest's chambers. Carmen watched the girl take her leave and shut the door behind her. With weary resolve, the guard turned back toward her second job; mediating the arguments between her partner and her superior.

The first room of the High Priest's chambers was a simple parlor for privately entertaining guests. Mavis hardly took notice of the room; she had seen it plenty of times throughout her years at the Dragon's Keep, and it held no excitement for her. Instead she walked to the far side and opened to door to the priest's study. It was furnished conservatively, but what furniture the room  _did_  hold was lavish. A large desk enamled with gold leaves and details sat in front of a large window overlooking the Keep's gardens. The desktop was sparse; only a few papers and notebooks, an inkwell, and a place to put candles sat on it. As she brushed past the desk, Mavis glanced at the papers on it. One name printed at the top a page caught her eye. Stopping abruptly, she only made out the words  _"Lee, Sofia; Diva, 27"_  at the top before the click of a door handle turning startled her into quickly taking a seat on the lounge in front of the desk.

Mavis willed her heart to stop pounding as the High Priest entered the room. Dark robes draped over a slight frame rustled softly as he shut the door to his private rooms. The mask that always rested on his nose and covered the upper half of his face caught the light streaming through the window as he turned. Its black surface reflected the features of the room and Mavis stared at her reflection for a brief second before rising to her feet and bowing deeply.

"High Priest," she greeted, eyes lowered. "I was told you requested my presence, although when someone summons me I usually expect to be accommodated immediately." The Diva rose from her bow and sighed dramatically. "Not that I mind; Carmen is delightful to talk to and I would never turn down an offer to speak with her. She has a very lyrical voice, wouldn't you agree?"

If he was offended by Mavis's attitude towards him at all, the High Priest made no comment or reaction to indicate it. Instead he chuckled and waved a hand at the girl before him.

"No need for such formality, Lady Diva, how many times have I told you? We've shared a rather close relationship these past few years, just Zeref will suffice." A small smiled crossed his face as Mavis rolled her eyes and dropped onto the couch.

" 'No need for such formality,' he says. 'Lady Diva,' he says. If I'm not to address you by your title, then don't call me by mine," she huffed in mock annoyance.

Taking a seat in the high-backed chair behind his desk, Zeref tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Duly noted." Mavis made a sound of contentment and he couldn't help but add, "Lady Diva."

Mavis groaned and sank lower on the lounge. "Incorrigible," she muttered while the High Priest snickered from his place at the desk. He shuffled the papers around, and Mavis eyed the one with the name on it, taking note of its new place on the desk. Zeref didn't take note of her interest in the file, and continued with their idle chatting.

"Tempesta said you were visiting Tartarus," Mavis commented, easily sliding into their routine gossip.

Nodding in response, Zeref sighed. "The Lord of Tartarus was having some trouble with a scholar. He's a little quick on the draw, the lord, not the scholar, and I felt it was necessary to evaluate the situation for myself."

"Oh?" Mavis sat up eagerly. "What do this scholar do that warranting a visit from one so mighty?"

Zeref glared at her from behind his mask, to which she grinned cheekily in response. "He was researching and gathering information sensitive to the Draconian Order. Has been for a while, apparently, but it was overlooked because of his status in Tartarus Palace. The Lord of Tartarus only recently recalled something his predecessor told him about the scholar's grandfather, who was tried and killed for heresy."

Mavis shifted on the lounge, leaning her side against the arm. "What was your verdict?"

"He will be tried, and if he confesses he will be exiled. If not," Zeref paused and turned his head. Mavis could not see his eyes. "The Lord of Tartarus will deal with the situation as he sees fit."

"You can't!" Mavis cried, rising to her feet. "Taking someone's life just because they don't agree with the Order? You are not a god, High Priest, you shouldn't decide these things."

Eyeing her dangerously, Zeref rose as well. "It is not your place to tell me what to do, Lady Diva." Mavis drew herself up her full height (which wasn't much) and glared into the eyes behind the mask.

"And it is not yours to decide who lives and dies, High Priest."

Zeref looked away first, but Mavis felt no triumph. "It is to protect the common people, something you should know well. Some secrets are too dangerous for anyone to know, and the foragers of that information must be dealt with. An unfortunate reality it would do you well to face."

"Too dangerous for anyone but yourself and other priests to know, you mean," Mavis said lowly.

"Sacrifice the one for the many. That is  _your_  philosophy, isn't it? Or am I mistaken?"

Mavis reeled back as if she'd been struck. "How dare you twist my words against me! There is a difference between willingly volunteering yourself and forcing it upon others."

They stood in stony silence for a few long minutes, neither daring to speak. Zeref broke the reverie first by relaxing his body in resignation. "What's done is done," he murmured. "I did not ask you here to argue."

After a beat, Mavis nodded stiffly, and took her seat on the couch once more.

"What did you want, then?" she asked softly, drawing her knees to her chest and locking her arms around them. Adrenaline faded now, she felt as weary as she had before, and almost looked forward to their conversation's end so she could return to the cottage and rest.

The High Priest shifted in his chair, trying to pick his next words carefully. "How have your prayers been lately?"

Mavis's brow furrowed at the change of topic, but she shrugged indifferently. "Fine. I sing, the dragon sleeps, we have a grand old time, really." She glanced at Zeref, saying nothing about her physical condition. Her attendants no doubt told him of her weakness. That was the true point of this conversation, she could tell.

Zeref made a noncommittal noise and studied her intently. "I see," he finally said after a long pause. "Anything else?"

Now it was Mavis's turn to stare. The High Priest met her gaze and she sighed, finding sudden interest in the woodwork of the lounge.

"I dreamt again." Zeref leaned back in his chair, interest renewed. "He's moving toward a malicious presence, but..." She trailed off, brow furrowing in annoyance. "Everything's muddled - more than usual, that is. This, this  _thing_ , is blurring everything. I'm not sure what to make of it." Her voice grew small and trepidation crept into her tone. "I'm worried for him. This force, the closer he draws to it, the further he is from me. I fear that soon I'll lose him altogether."

"Perhaps it's time you let him go. Your paths diverged years ago. There's no point in holding onto what's in the past, it will only cause more damage to your health," Zeref said, regarding her reaction coolly.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Mavis's temper rose. She sat up straight on the couch, the picture of regal anger. "My health is fine, and of no concern to you," she hissed lowly. The High Priest opened his mouth to speak, but Mavis continued before he could get any words out. "And you ask me to forget my brother, who I have not seen in years, who I willingly left to come and serve  _you_ and the rest of this Order. You may be the High Priest, but your audacity astounds me. I do not ask for much in return for what I am giving, and glimpses,  _only glimpses!_ , of my brother are a small price to pay."

She stood up, staring down at Zeref, who matched her glare with calm apathy. "I believe we're done here," Mavis whispered.

Slowly, Zeref nodded. "I believe we are."

As she turned to leave, Mavis brushed against the stack of papers resting on the corner of the priest's desk. They fell to the ground in a flutter of disarray. Muttering apologies, Mavis bent to begin gathering the papers up, glancing at Zeref out of the corner of her eye. When he pushed back his chair to stand up she scanned the papers on the floor. Spotting the one she was looking for, Mavis folded it quickly, rustling others papers to mask the sound, and slipped it into her dress, making sure the sash at her waist was pulled tight to keep it from falling.

"You can leave those, Obra will get to them." Mavis stood at Zeref's words, tipping her head in acknowledgement.

"Good day, High Priest," she murmured as she made her way to the hallway.

"Good day, Lady Diva."

* * *

**Paradise of Light and Shadow:**   _Lost Beyond Sight_

* * *

_Shink._

_Thud._

"Dead," the girl said coolly. Her companion, sprawled out on the ground, sword a good three feet away, groaned and rubbed his shoulder.

"What does that make it now? Twenty to sixty this month?" The man on the ground asked, grimacing as he stood up.

"Twenty to sixty-three, but who's counting?" Studying her opponent, the girl reached down and picked up his sword, offering the handle to him. "You kind of suck, Yuriy."

Taking the weapon from her, Yuriy sheathed it and stretched his arms above his head. "Don't sugarcoat it, by all means," he said, giving her a dry look. "I'm sorry I'm not as good as you, oh great swordmaster Zeira."

Scoffing, Zeira sheathed her own blade. "I'm nothing close to being a swordmaster, I just happen to be better than  _you_." She grinned at him and added, "And that doesn't take much."

"I think you just insulted yourself," Yuriy shot back as he stomped out their campfire.

Picking up their packs from the ground, Zeira rolled her eyes. "It doesn't take much, but my skills go above and beyond."

"Your arguments have been pretty weak lately. Maybe you need a lesson from me on good comebacks," Yuriy snickered.

"Whatever," Zeira said, throwing Yuriy's bag to him. He was fiddling with something on his belt and the pack hit him square on the chest, causing him to stumble back a few feet. "Let's get going already. We're only one town over from Tartarus, and the sooner we get there the better."

Shrugging his bag over his shoulders, Yuriy sighed despondently. "Remind me again why we're walking straight into hell?"

"There's a man there who seems to know a lot about the Dragon's Keep. He's bound to know more about the Keep than us, maybe some hints as to where it's at, or even its exact location." Zeira slid her own pack on and waited for Yuriy to join her before heading off in the direction of Tartarus Palace.

"So we're risking infiltrating Tartarus on the basis that this guy  _might_  help us, and  _might_  know more information about the Order?" Yuriy ducked under a low hanging branch as they walked, looking at Zeira and waiting for her response.

His companion was silent for a few long moments before responding. "Any better ideas?" She finally asked, uncharacteristically quiet. "We've been looking for years, and we only know a little more than we did when we first started out. It's risky, but what other choice do we have?"

Yuriy had nothing to say to the younger girl.

They walked on in silence from then, both contemplating different decisions and different ways the next few days could work out. The sun reach its peak and they briefly stopped for a meal before continuing on. As the sun lowered toward the horizon the silhouettes of a few buildings loomed in the distance.

The sight of the buildings put a new spring in the duo's steps and they quickly made their way toward the village, falling back into their usual banter.

A man at the guard post on the way into the village eyed them as they walked past, took in their rugged travelling attire, and let them pass without a word. Dusk was settling over the area, but the village had been in darkness long before the sun set.

The main road cut through the village and disappeared into the woods at the far end. As Yuriy disappeared into an inn to secure lodgings, Zeira followed the path with her eyes. The forest swallowed up the road and she couldn't make out where it went after a few feet into the woods. But her gaze travelled upward, and it was no secret to where the road led.

At the top of a large hill outside of the town stood a large fortress. Its walls were made of a dark stone, and the light from the setting sun was blocked out by the palace, casting a shadow over the village and the rest of the valley. It was officially called a palace, but the building's foreboding aura made all who saw it think of it as something akin to a citadel or fortress, perhaps the final checkpoint before the descent into the underworld.

Zeira shifted her gaze away from the palace, scuffing her boot against the dirt of the road.

They had arrived at Tartarus Palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise, Zeref plays the morally ambiguous figure even in an AU. Yuriy and Zeira have arrived at Tartarus, not a very welcoming place, where they'll run into a few more cast members. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at the same URL as my username here, so come pop into my ask and chat!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first, and currently biggest, first gen fic. It's already been posted on ffnet and tumblr, but I've been using AO3 more often than other sites recently so I decided to transfer it here as well! 
> 
> Other characters, Zeira, Warrod, Precht, Zeref, etc., will pop up in later chapters alongside the Dreyar/Vermillion duo, so be ready for a slew of new arrivals


End file.
